Making Up
by katatonic25
Summary: Making up with Draco was nearly as explosive as fighting with him. EWE, Smut!


I posted this as two-parter on my tumblr and people seemed to like it, so i thought i'd share it with y'all as well!

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Hermione stumbled from her empty bed to her empty bathroom as the pink light of dawn filtered through the window. She turned on the shower and stepped under the lukewarm stream of water. _He_ always liked it hot- scalding water that turned his skin rosy. His skin was rarely flushed- unlike her own, Hermione thought grudgingly as she lathered shampoo in her hands. In fact, unless he was freshly showered or aroused, he remained pale and statuesque- the perfect Malfoy. Stoic, stern, and scowling.

No, Hermione corrected to herself as she rinsed the suds from her long, curly hair. In front of others, he was limited with his emotions, but around her, he was at his most expressive. Hermione's gaze landed on the foot of the bathtub where he sat crying quiet, painful sobs the night his father died. The scent of his cologne filled her senses as she embraced him, holding him tightly as his shoulders shook against her.

She clumsily reached for her conditioner, knocking it off the small shelf as his image swirled in her mind. Hermione banged her elbow against the hard tile as she reached down to pick it up. He always hated how small her shower was. In fact, it was the subject of their first fight after he moved in. He wanted to magically enlarge it. She had scoffed at him, which she knew he hated_. _

"It's a muggle building, Draco!" she cried. "We can't just go around altering it!"

She had stepped into the shower, showing him that there was plenty of room for a single occupant, when he flicked the shower on, drenching her in freezing cold water. Hermione pulled him in, ruining his silk tie. She laughed evilly when his white-blond hair flattened to the top of his head.

Hermione squeezed body wash onto a washcloth and ignored the way her body tingled as she remembered how they made up from that argument. Making up with Draco was nearly as explosive as fighting with him.

She was too lost in thought to hear the small click of the door or the slight screech of metal-on-metal as the shower curtain tugged open. Hermione startled as a large, warm body pressed against her back and a long arm wrapped around her waist. She knew it was him- the faded Dark Mark, the way his muscles corded around his forearm, the sparse sprinkling of pale hair. His nose trailed along the wet skin of her neck as the roughness of his unshaven face scratched her skin.

"I thought I told you to stay away," she murmured as he took the cloth from her hand and began to wash her stomach.

"You did," Draco muttered. His breath fanned over his skin as Hermione trembled slightly.

"And…?"

"Pansy told me you didn't mean it. Some bullshit about wanting me to fight for you. I was only half-listening."

Hermione snorted indelicately, then remembered her anger.

"You told me I couldn't go. It's my work, Draco. I can't not go just because you're insecure."

He bit down on her shoulder, causing a small strangled noise to bubble from Hermione's throat.

"Go," he whispered, punctuating the word with a small kiss, soothing the small, red mark.

Hermione turned her head sharply to look at him over her shoulder.

"What?"

"Go. Do your job. Be Hermione Granger, War Heroine. I'll wait."

She turned around, eyeing him with guarded suspicion. His eyes darted down momentarily at her naked form, then met her unfaltering gaze.

"I was _always_ going to go," Hermione said slowly, drawing her small hands up his arms to loop around his neck. "Are you saying you won't be such a git about it?"

He narrowed his eyes and sucked in a breath.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Draco asked, his annoyance seeping into his voice. He softened his tone with a slow drag of his thumb across Hermione's bottom lip. She watched in silence as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, then looked up at him through her eyelashes. His eyes were steely grey and his cheeks were tinged pink as his hand trailed down her back to rest on the swell of her arse.

"Yes," Hermione replied in a shaky voice. "You are."

Draco leaned in to kiss her, but groaned in frustration when her hand pushed against his chest.

"I'm still mad at you. You forbid me to _do my job_ because it meant I would be travelling for a few weeks! You have to realize how selfish that was."

"_Six_ weeks," he corrected as his bottom lip rolled out into a slight pout.

As Hermione rolled her eyes, he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"And I like you when you're mad." His voice turned gravelly as his hand tightened around her arse. His lips came down over the hollow spot behind her ear lobe, sending chills down her spine. With a kiss and a small nip, Hermione arched into his chest, eyes fluttering shut with desire.

When their lips met, it was with crushing resolve. The sound of joy that brewed in Hermione turned into a gasping cry when Draco pulled her flush against him, digging his fingertips into her flesh. She dragged her nails down his chest in retaliation, purposefully moving away from the hardness pressed against her stomach. Hermione thought she heard a low growl in the back of Draco's throat, but when she opened her mouth to speak, the sharp points of his teeth dragged along her neck and the words left her mind. By the time her skin was tinged with love bites, Draco and she were stumbling awkwardly around the shower, trying to remain upright against their better judgment.

"Where?" Draco grunted, as she wrapped her hand around his length, her thumb pressing gently against the leaking head. With a nonverbal cushioning charm aimed towards the hard tile of the bathroom floor, Hermione pulled him from the shower onto the ground. Her knees hit the softened floor as Draco shifted his hips between her. His cock brushed against her and her moan echoed around the steamy room. Draco wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her down impatiently to join in a kiss once again. Hermione rolled her hips forward, gliding against the underside of his cock. As she groaned at the feeling, he swore against her lips.

"Fuck, Hermione," he muttered. "It's been too long."

She laughed as she made her way across his jaw, dropping small kisses along it as she moved.

"Three days?" she asked, then tugged his earlobe into her mouth. His grip on her hips tightened and she was sure there would be bruises in the morning.

"Too long," Draco insisted, pushing his hips up against her in suggestion. Hermione sat up and looked down at him between her legs. His chest looked feverishly red against the white tiles of the floor and his eyes were black with desire. She watched his jaw tighten as she grasped his cock to guide him into her and his eyes roll ever-so-slightly into the back of his head when she lowered herself completely on him. The small, yet somehow completely satisfying pinching sensation reminded her that it _had_ been longer than three days since they last fucked. Hermione's breath was coming out in deep, heavy pants and she was lost in her pleasure until Draco's fingers pinched gently at her nipples, bringing her back to the present.

She rode him slowly, allowing the sensation of him inside of her to take her higher. When he began to thrust up into her, meeting her halfway, a long series of gasping moans fell from her mouth. Draco's lewd profanity danced in her ears, urging her on. Hermione sped up until their hips crushed against each other.

"Oh fuck, Draco," she murmured, head thrown back in ecstasy. He steadied in recognition of her coming orgasm; it was the only time he ever heard her swear. One hand left her hip to rub small, light circles around her swollen clit until Hermione was keening in release. She squeezed and pulsed around him, drawing his own orgasm forcefully from his body with a shout.

Hermione fell against him, not bothering to lift herself off of his cock. He stroked her back lazily as she panted in his ear.

"I don't think I can go six week without you," she said quietly against the scruff on his jaw. Draco hugged her tightly.

"Don't be mad," he cautioned. Hermione sat up slowly, causing him to hiss gently as he slipped from her warmth. She stared down at him with her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"What did you do?" she asked, her cheeks flushing in premature anger.

"It wasn't _me_, really… Pansy has a flat in New York that you can use while you're there… but she _may_ have encouraged me to purchase my own."

"You bought a flat." Hermione repeated shallowly.

"I know I'm a selfish bastard but-"

She interrupted him with a smothering kiss. When they broke for air, she repeated it again, this time with a shy smile.

"You bought a flat."


End file.
